


The old man and the nurse

by UlsPi



Series: May/December Omens [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Human, Anxious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Aziraphale is "just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing" (Good Omens), Crowley is Good With Kids (Good Omens), Hospitals, M/M, May/December Relationship, Mental Health Issues, Mentions of Cancer, Needles, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:14:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24772957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UlsPi/pseuds/UlsPi
Summary: Dr Fell is an aging man who had given up on having a relationship. That is until he isn't feeling so well during his walk, and a young nurse helps him.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: May/December Omens [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1795429
Comments: 128
Kudos: 112





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> CW: mentions of cancer, hospitals, needles are mentioned too. There's non-graphic labour scene. The age difference here is huge, so don't read, please, if it's not your thing. Both protagonists are very consenting adults, but they are indeed very much May-December. Let us all have our kinks and be happy

Dr Ezra Fell was good. Now, who begins like that? I'll tell you who. The one who believes every fucking word they say, so trust me, Dr Fell was good. He was very good. He still remembered the name of every person who gave birth in his care or under his observation. He had even heard about this thing called Facebook (he loved books, and did have his face in one a lot, but when combined, he couldn't quite grasp the result) where the parents of the kids he had helped bring into the world (he didn't like it put like that, but alright,  _ Facebook _ ) began a group called  _ Ezra's kids _ . 

Dr Fell wasn't a hero (or was he?), so when he was told, in no uncertain terms, that being as gay as Dr Fell was, wasn't safe, Dr Fell just accepted it. After all, he was so gay, anyone who met him could tell he was gay, even if they didn't know what it implied. So Dr Fell adapted himself and his life to be alone, to avoid seeking company, if it was dangerous.

And now Dr Fell was an aging man. He was exactly sixty, and he was sitting on a bench in the St James' Park and was feeling rather unwell. Oh, he knew he shouldn't have drunk that mint tea, because now his blood pressure was so low, it could have been in Australia. Dr Fell was unwell, and there wasn't anyone in his phone he could call and ask for help. He wasn't going to ask his interns to help him, no he wasn't. He was nearing the retirement age, so he wasn't going to let everyone remember it. He didn't have friends he felt comfortable enough with to bother them on such a fine day.

Dr Fell just wanted cool hands on him, just cool hands, nothing else… and suddenly there was a pair of cool hands on his temples. 

"You're not well. Please, lie down and let me take care of you," said a lazy voice, something slow and drawling, something sensual and therefore unwelcome. "There you go…" Dr Fell's head was laid gently onto a folded jacket. Someone who smelled of youth and strength, of energy and time took his pulse. "Very low. Very low… Trust me, please, you perfect stranger. I'm a nurse. You rest a bit, gonna bring you something with sugar…"

The voice went away and returned with a disgustingly sweet cocktail from McDonald's. 

"I know, I know. Terrible. Awful. Please have a sip or two… there you go. There you go. Tell me when you're ready to get up and I'll take you to a hospital."

Dr Fell wanted to argue, but he couldn't. His head rested on the soft velvet jacket, and once he could turn his head, he saw a young ginger man sitting on the ground next to him. The ginger was reading… oh, dear, he was reading a book about cancer. Dr Fell wanted to throw up and protest and say that he was an obstetrician, he was dealing with life and life alone, but he couldn't. 

"You rest, mate. I'll take you to the hospital once you're feeling better. If you don't feel like hospital, I'll take you home, but I'll be very disapproving indeed." The lazy drawling voice appeared to have scowled. Dr Fell just drowsed off to avoid further discussion.

The next thing he knew was the inside of some fast moving car which wasn't an ambulance. Dr Fell opted for drowsing off again.

He came by in the A&E department, which was fairly familiar but not entirely so. He turned his head and heard someone singing.

" _ Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens, bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens, brown paper packages tied up with strings - these are a few of my favourite things… _ Now, shall we go to a wicked laboratory and give them everything we have? I swear it will be easier after that…"

_ I'm in hell. Sound of music. It's hell.  _ That was what Dr Fell thought and fell into numb slumber.

When he woke up, he heard the same voice singing:

" _ Cream-coloured ponies and crisp apple strudels, door bells and sleigh bells and schnitzel with noodles - these are a few of my favourite things… _ I know, it's cheesy as fuck, but how about we get this MRI thing out of the way? It looks like a spaceship. Or a submarine. What do you prefer?"

_ Kids having to get MRI,  _ thought Dr Fell,  _ no way. And the sound of music… _

He passed out again.

He came to again as he was being rolled past a room where a few children sat with IVs attached, while the satanic Maria entertained them.

" _... A drop of golden sun. Me - a name I call myself. Fa - a long-long way to run…  _ You know, people, you're all so awesome, I'm so proud of you, and you're the only superheroes I've seen."

The voice was nice, but the songs… oh fuck, the songs!

Dr Fell groaned.

"I know, I know," a soothing voice above Mr Fell said. "That would be Crowley. The pediatric nurse. It works on kids, his theatrics, but hey, we all suffer from… this."

Dr Fell told his body to turn off.

When said body came to, it heard the following:

"Yes, you're right. Come on, throw up your insides into that neat bucket…  _ Used the wrong method with the wrong technique… _ I know, I know. You just want to die. Not letting you, I'm sorry…  _ I was marching to the wrong drum with the wrong scum… _ Yes, just like that, kid… yes. Throw up on them all. Good, brilliant. You're doing so well. You want to cry, I want to cry too. Let's do it… Yes, that's it.  _ At the wrong day of the wrong week, using wrong method with the wrong technique… _ I know. But this way has been proved to be the most effective, and I know you're not feeling like it, but you're gonna live, kid. First kiss, first time… come on. You can do it. I believe in you."

Dr Fell, predictably, passed out to come to the same lazy voice.

" _ Hunting high and low… there's no end to the lengths I'd go to find him again… Upon this my dreams are depending… Through the dark I sense the pound of his heart next to mine… He's the sweetest love I could find… _ "

A lean shadow swayed their hips, arms and hands to the melody, and a child was laughing, alarmingly aware of the ridiculousness of the shadow's moves.

"You're one clever kid. Now, let me check my crush. He's been not that well, and I'm worried." Crowley across the hall moved to open the glass door.

"Are you in love, Crowley?"

"Well, I hope so… I don't want it to be unrequited, so shut up and let me check on him."

Crowley walked over to Aziraphale's room and leaned on the frame, crossing his arms and looking like a hospital demon with his fiery hair, black uniform with little ducks printed all over it and bright pink crocs.. 

" _ I've got my pride, and I know how to hide all my sorrow and pain - I'll do my crying in the rain, _ " he sang softly. " _ Someday when my crying is done, I'm gonna wear a smile and walk in the sun… _ " 

Distracted by his radio manners, the nurse who had been making sure Ezra got his medicine, turned and scowled at Crowley.

"Yes? Won't you get back to your kids?"

" _ Since we're not together, I'll pray for storming weather, to hide these tears I hope you'd never see… _ " Crowley hummed, looking at Ezra. Apparently he couldn't be silent. 

"Yes, yes, oldies. Move fucking away." Hastur passed Dr Fell another medicine.

" _ Hold me tight, this is a lonely night… _ " Crooned Crowley and disappeared again. Dr Fell opted for dozing off once more.

***

"What the ever loving fucking fuck, doc!" Yelled Dr Device. Well, she didn't yell, she was in a hospital, and it wasn't her hospital, so she was just maddeningly furious. "You fucking couldn't call me? Why? I'm your friend, and you're an arse!"

"And a very pretty one he has too," said satanic Maria, aka Crowley, and looked at Dr Device warily. 

"I'm Ana!" She snapped. To Ezra's and Ana's surprise, Crowley brightened. "You?"

"And I'm Crowley.  _ I'm the racing car passing by like lady Godiva, I'm gonna go, go, go, there's no stopping me…  _ Ssssorry. Happenssss."

"Wahoo!" Ana yelled, again, and Ezra winced. 

"How do you two… how?" Ezra asked. Both disgustingly young people turned to Ezra, one angry again, one smitten as before. Perhaps, it was his perpetual state. 

"When you, doc, fucking disappeared without trace YESTERDAY and had the whole fucking Eden ob-gyn centre panic and having a mad Finnegan's fucking wake…"

"Oi, stop shouting! The man is an angel and allowed to be sick!" Crowley stopped Ana, and she looked at him with disdain, then unexpectedly brightened. 

"Do go on, Crooooowleeeeeeyyyy."

"Well, I gave Hastur a cigarette, and he's been trying to give up… Not proud of myself, ok, but you have no emergency contact, and I…. I was worried. I brought you here, after all."

"You know, you're the angel one," Ana interrupted. 

"And anyway. Got your phone while Hastur was away, and Bea hates Hastur, so they let me have my way, and I got your phone, found the most frequent contact and well… Here she is. Didn't know she'd be yelling so much. Would have called the second most frequent contact. Someone called Tracy."

"Well, Tracy has been worried sick, so you…" Ana pointed at Ezra sharply.

"Oh please, stop yelling!" Crowley yelled. " _ You scowled and you were so bold… Yes together, hm yeah, our love will grow old… _ Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Crowley rushed out and both Ezra and Ana watched him saunter down the hall pulling at his hair. 

"What an interesting young man," Ezra said. 

"A-ha." Ana turned to Ezra and grinned. "He fancies you, like super a lot."

"My dear girl, you're delusional. I think you might need some medical help, if I may be so bold."

" _ Yes together, hm yeah, our love will grow old _ ," Ana crooned. Ezra rolled his eyes. 

"I saw his aura," Ana informed, casually walking over to Ezra's bed and perching herself on its edge. 

"Dear girl, you're a doctor. You can't keep insisting on all the… unreasonable things…"

"Like the fact he fancies you?"

"Ana, this is ridiculous! I've spent my life without any… dalliances, and there's not much of it left anyway, dear girl."

"You know, Ezra, I don't think you realise how much of a romantic you are. Whenever you see a happy couple, you yearn so much it makes the air around you vibrate… oh shit." Ana noticed Ezra had been biting his lip and looking away from her. His dark eyelashes were silvered by a few tears. 

"I'm sorry. I… I didn't mean to…"

"I… my time… I… I will never have anyone in my life… I will never have a partner, and Lord knows I want to! But… when I was young it was dangerous, and I have always been a coward…"

"Tell me who made you… who told you… Can I still kill them?"

Ezra chuckled. "I had this crush on nurse Gabriel many years ago. He… he told me I was too much of a soft man to endure the difficulties… and that no one would ever want me anyway. He knew he didn't…"

"You mean that old fucking arsehole who got fired two years ago? The one who made an obnoxious comment to a parent of the baby in his care?"

"That's the one…"

"Well, good, I can kill him." Ana shrugged. 

"He wasn't the only one. Many people told me I was… difficult. Strange."

There was a knock.

"Hello." A short person with black hair and black uniform was standing in the doorway holding what seemed like the entire contents of the vending machine down the hall. "I'm Bea. Head nurse. Crowley is in neonatal today… Can't handle working with cancer for too long… Can you blame him, really? Anyway, he asked me to give it to you and he said, and I quote,  _ tell them I'm a fucking demon and I'm so sorry _ ." They unloaded various junk foods on Ezra's lap. 

"When will I be able to leave?" Dr Fell asked after a moment of stunned silence. 

"Head pediatric nurse," Bea clarified as they left. "I'll see what I can do, though."

Ana took Ezra's hand. 

"Sorry I yelled. Sorry I upset you. Fuck the age or anything really that doesn't make you happy. I love you silly, and so does Tracy, so does everyone who knows you."

"You're very kind, dear girl."

"I'm not. And I'm about to do, like, the stupidest thing in my life…" With that Ana took her phone out of her old-fashioned skirt (tartan; Ana and Dr Fell became friends over many things, like obstetrics, embryology, fine wine and tartan). She grabbed Ezra's phone too and… did something. Ezra didn't care that much - he was unwell and upset and before he knew it he was asleep in the sea of chocolate bars and all sorts of crisps. 

He was released in the afternoon, and Ana took him home. She was smiling deviously and spoke mysteriously.

And somewhere in the depths of neonatal care of the Oscar Wilde hospital, nurse Crowley was singing  _ Pale Blue Eyes  _ to a newborn in his arms.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here comes the non-graphic labour scene.

Ana was prone to teasing, but this was getting ridiculous. Crowley popped up in every conversation Dr Fell had with her, including, to Dr Fell's endless embarrassment, the one had during a difficult labour.

The birth father's epidural had finally kicked in, while his husband was about to kick off. Dr Fell was concentrated on the job at hand, and Dr Device made sure to keep the mood light, so to speak.

"If only nurse Crowley were here," she began. 

"This is hardly appropriate," Dr Fell replied, blushing.

"Who's nurse Crowley?" Asked the birthing father, Arthur. 

"He's a sweet young man who Dr Fell has to have a crush on."

"I'm so sorry," Dr Fell muttered from between Arthur's legs. "Could you please push?"

"Oh, please, Dr Fell! I was so surprised to learn you weren't married and didn't have a bunch of your own kids!" Arthur said enthusiastically. 

"Wonderful what drugs do to people," Dr Fell cursed under his breath, and suddenly beamed so hard, it was visible despite the mask. "Hello, little one… Arthur, dear, please, push again, the head is out… You can do it, you've been doing so well."

"Dr Fell, I'll push and you'll have a crush," Arthur said and had his son out in two pushes after two days of labour. 

"Here," Dr Fell held the baby up to let Arthur see him. The boy made a very angry face and cried out with utter indignation. 

"I know, sweet, I know…" Dr Fell cooed. 

***

"That was completely unprofessional, inappropriate, insulting!" Dr Fell yelled. "How dare you? I mentored you, I think of you as my own daughter, you're a good friend, and… and…" He collapsed into his chair and sobbed. Ana herself was on the verge of tears, but she  _ got it together, woman _ and walked over to the desk to hold Ezra. 

"You silly old man… I could only wish for a father like you… But the thing is… Epidural didn't kick in as it should have. And Arthur  _ adores  _ gossip. He's been having a hell of a pregnancy, equally nightmarish labour and I wanted him to relax. Do you understand how much he cares about you if thinking of your frankly nonexistent love life helped him relax and quickly push his baby out? I'm sorry, I swear, I didn't realise how much you'd be affected by my words… Ezra, I'm really sorry. I love you too, you idiot…"

Ezra looked up at Ana, both their faces ugly red and blotched. "Love you too, dear girl. I… I didn't know about Arthur…"

"Of course you didn't. I brought you onboard quite late… You know what? We had a hard day and deserve dinner. How about I take you to that fancy sushi place? My treat."

***

Ezra got home late. He was in a lovely mood, and his place was quite a nice one too, so he even hummed something to himself as he took in his flat, cluttered, with books and forgotten cups of tea and cocoa. It was good, he decided. Everything was good. He had Ana. He had Tracy who did the administrative… stuff in Eden and therefore allowed Ezra to concentrate solely on medicine. He felt much better than a few weeks back, when Ana spent two nights in his flat to make sure he was alright. She teased him, alright, but she was a great friend and she kept him on his toes… 

Ezra set his leftovers on the kitchen island and busied himself with tea. He kept humming something, which turned out to be  _ Figaro _ , which was suddenly disturbed by the buzzing of his phone.

Ezra frowned. Ezra looked at the phone. The phone said it was Crowley calling. Ezra had a late revelation about what exactly Ana had been doing with his phone… Ezra  _ before _ sushi would have been furious. Ezra of the moment, definitely after sushi, was too confused to feel anything… He picked up the phone.

"Hello." Ezra paused and then added: "It's rather late, isn't it?"

"Ehhm… hi. Hello. It's barely eight?" 

"Oh… right."

"I mean, if you need an excuse to end the call, then you don't need to bother. I understand…  _ you've come to shake my hand. _ Fuuuuck. Anyway. How are you?  _ My imagination's driving me wild, and I'm feeling like a silly child…  _ Oh no, bad music. Are you still here?"

" _ Here I am, _ " Ezra sang unexpectedly.

"Ngk…" Crowley replied. "How… are you feeling?"

"I'm much better, my dear… I didn't thank you for your help, but… believe me I'm very grateful for your help."

" _ And suddenly I saw you there and in foggy London town the sun was shining everywhere…  _ Yeah… well. You're welcome, you know. Was a pleasure. Not that you were unwell, not that. Meeting you. It was."

Dr Fell felt warm and cozy, and it had nothing to do with how warm and cozy his flat was. 

"Well, it was very kind of you to rescue an old man…"

"You don't get it, do you? You… you don't see, do you?"

"What is it, my dear?"

"You like books, right?"

"You could say so…" Ezra brought his teacup to his lips and realised he had forgotten to pour water over the teabag. 

"So… gonna read you something… It's a poem by a Soviet writer. Long forgotten, but my mom, she knew about him and she spoke a bit of Russian, so we would sometimes translate him… here.  _ Old age is luxury, it's not clutter, old age is the youth of the tired ones, the grey-haired and wrinkled wonder of our ideas and our triumphs.  _ Can you see now? Do you understand me?"

"I doubt that I can… but keep talking." Ezra looked up, saw his grinning face reflected in the glass door of a cupboard

"Remember how Eckermann met Goethe?"

"I'm not  _ that  _ old, dear boy."

"And a bit of a bastard, too… Well, this is how I saw you… Dinner?"

"I've just had one."

"Not what I meant, but fine. What did you have?"

Ezra didn't need to be asked twice about anything related to food, so he spent about half an hour telling Crowley about his dinner. He was sure the young man wasn't listening, yet the young man was quite handsome… and he had rubber ducks print on his uniform. And the pink Crocks. Dr Fell wasn't bothering anyone, really, just indulged in whatever this was. 

"I'm afraid I got carried away," Dr Fell admitted both smugly and guiltily.

"That was fucking fantastic. Wow. Tell me more? What about your breakfast?"

"Dear boy, why are you asking that? Why have you even called?"

"You… you just told me a bloody poem about sushi, and I don't even like fish. I mean eating it.  _ Under the sea, under the sea…  _ So obviously you like food. And I plan to get you talking about food some more, you'll get hungry and I'll pick you up…  _ Could go dancing, we could go walking…  _ Do you like ABBA?"

"Not  _ that  _ old!" Ezra snapped. 

"Ok… so… I guess… no dinner? I understand… although you got me awfully hungry." 

"Are you flirting with me, Crowley?" Ezra asked, his voice booming. He got scared of himself even.

"I am!" Crowley snapped back proudly.

"I'm sixty!"

There was a long pause. 

"That's quite above the age of consent," Crowley finally replied.

"And you are?"

"I'm thirty two. Well above the age of consent as well.  _ We're all alone, no chaperone can get our number, the world's in slumber, let's misbehave. That's something wild about you, child, that's so contagious. Let's be outrageous! Let's misbehave!" _

Ezra looked at his reflection questioningly. He had a head full of wild white curls, he had wrinkles around his eyes, and although the glass didn't reach that far, Ezra knew well enough that he had a tummy. 

"You know, dear boy, that was very wily of you, you… wily… fiend."

"I wanted to ask you out some other day, but if an opportunity for mischief presents itself, I'm going to welcome it. Is it working, though? A moment ago you sounded so angry… I mean… I was a creep, I asked around. You're not married."

"But I'm sixty!"

There was another long pause.

"Ok. I looked it up. It's a unitary perfect number, abundant number, ten times a perfect number and therefore a semiperfect number. Wait a minute… There, so, as for my age, it's a Leyland number and incidentally the number of completed, numbered Beethoven's piano sonatas. You like Beethoven? Or you're  _ not that old _ ?" Crowley giggled, and Ezra couldn't help giggling too. "I mean, I love Vivaldi. How about that, Mr  _ I'm too old for the second dinner _ ?"

"Are you implying I'm fat?" 

Crowley groaned in frustration. "You know, either it's your way of flirting, and if so, keep going, or you're driving me mad, and that's unfair because I think of you all the fucking time!"

"I'm inclined to take your pulse, Crowley."

Another pause. 

"It's 120 bpm. Usually it's 100. Not that bad…"

"How much alcohol did you have?"

"Ehm… none? How is it relevant? The time is… being all… time.  _ Time, in quaaludes and red wine demanding Billy Dolls and other friends of mine take your time _ … I have a morning shift, so how about that second dinner? Or first dinner tomorrow? I mean, other than our different qualities according to number theory, what have you got against dinner with me?"

"Why do you do it?!"

" _ Baby, you just make me mad… Linger on your pale blue eyes _ . I got it, angel. I'll stop pestering you. Please, have a good evening, ok?"

Ezra considered. And considered. In the end it all came down to whatever it was he wanted, and what he wanted was second dinner with a young ginger nurse.

"When can you pick me up?" Ezra asked, defeated. 

"Ngk… I'll be there… where are you?"

"Soho."

"Good. I'll be there in ten." Crowley ended the call. Ezra's only consolation was that he hadn't given Crowley his address, so he changed into some comfortable clothes (tartan pants, worn out grey henley, worn out blue cardigan, soft socks…) and then there was another buzzing, but this time it was coming from his door.

Ezra hummed and cursed. He went to open the door. Crowley was standing there. 

"Oh fuck!" Crowley said.

"A bit too fast, isn't it?" Ezra asked. Crowley blushed.

"I forgot to change. You look lovely." Crowley himself was wearing his black uniform, but this one had pink unicorns on it. There was a very good black coat over his shoulders and a pair of very old Blundstones on his feet, black as anything.

"Ok, where to?" Crowley said and stepped aside to let Ezra lead the way. 

"Oh dear. How did you even find me?"

"Ana?" Crowley asked/admitted guiltily. 

"Oh good Lord!" Ezra replied. 

Crowley had parked - obnoxiously - a few steps from Ezra's building. 

"So, you're a nurse?" Ezra clarified taking in a black vintage Bentley. 

"Yeah, I am." Crowley opened the door for Ezra and walked around the car to get inside.

"And you're driving a vintage Bentley? And live ten minutes from Soho?"

"Yeah? Mom died five years ago. I was a late child. She restored old cars. Can be lucrative. I live in Mayfair. I'm posh. Where to, angel?"

Ezra gave up any resistance. He told Crowley to drive them to another fancy sushi place he accidentally had never taken Ana to. 

***

The drive was short and absolutely terrifying. Ezra hated himself, hated old badass single mothers who restored old cars and took their late sons old-car-hunting around the world and taught them to drive when said late sons were fourteen. Ezra also hated peculiar singing nurses with pink unicorns on their uniforms.

"I'm sorry, angel," Crowley apologised, helping Ezra out of the car. "I'll drive slower, promise. Just… used to drive like that. It's alright, it's _ alright, it's alright, it's alright, bright lights and the big city, it belongs to us tonight! _ "

***

The place was almost empty, which was unusual at this hour, and it meant, to Ezra's horror, that the staff would definitely have time to chat with him and gossip behind his back about Crowley being Ezra's dinner partner. 

The waiter took their drink orders and moved to leave, but Crowley called him back and looked at Ezra and Ezra alone, as he spoke:

"I understand you know Dr Fell?"

"Oh, yes, our favourite patron!" The waited beamed, Dr Fell blushed, but kept looking at Crowley, right into his extremely-very-not-good naughty yellow eyes. 

"I see. Lovely. I managed to persuade Dr Fell to agree to a date with me, and it's our first one, so… I'd like it if you made it… magical, by which I mean, peaceful, quiet and undisturbed. I suppose, the whole staff here is enamored with Dr Fell, and I don't blame them, I don't. But… give me a chance?" 

The waiter was on the verge of tears. "Awww," he cooed. "Aw, this is so sweet. Of course, no one would bother you." He practically ran away to fetch their drinks. Crowley took the menu and stared into it. "I don't have a clue but I want whatever it is that makes you all poetic about raw fish."

"You said you didn't like fish," Ezra remembered, paling.

"Could give it a try." Crowley shrugged. "Are you alright? Did I… overstep?" He looked concerned and even a bit scared.

"Why… why did you do it?" Ezra asked.

"Well, you come here often… I doubt you wanted them to gossip, so I gave them enough information to gossip and simultaneously made myself totally responsible for this… date. Disaster. Depends on whether some colour returns to your face." Long cool fingers wrapped around Ezra's wrist. "No, you're ok… but pale. You alright?"

"I'm sixty." Ezra reminded.

"Yes. Ten times a perfect number. Six is a perfect number because it's a sum of its divisors, excluding itself. My age doesn't live up to all that number theory glory. Have you read Hardy's autobiography? It's wicked!"

As a matter of fact, Ezra  _ had  _ indeed read Hardy's autobiography and loved it too, so the conversation settled comfortably in the area of literary gifted scientists. 

The food arrived, and Ezra allowed himself to enjoy his second dinner. Crowley was staring at him.

"Something's wrong, my dear?" Ezra asked, on the verge of yet another anxiety attack.

"Yeah. I'm horny." Crowley replied bluntly. Ezra looked around the place. 

"For whom?" He asked innocently.

"For you, obviously," Crowley swallowed and looked at his food. 

"There's no need to tease me…" Ezra began.

"I'm not the one moaning around a mouthful of raw fish," Crowley remarked.

Ezra blushed. He looked fetchingly salmon-like.

"It's… good." Ezra glanced at Crowley hopefully.

"Apparently…" Crowley seemed dazed. "You're no good, angel, and I bloody love it!" He grinned like a loon and shoved two rolls into his mouth.

"You're supposed to chew," Ezra reminded.

"You're supposed to give me no naughty ideas on the first date.  _ Ah ah child way ya shake that thing gon' make you burn, gon' make you sting, _ " Crowley sang and winked, the devil!

"Like what?"

"Like dragging you into the bathroom and doing my fucking best to make you a happy man? If you're going to tell me you're sixty once again, I'm going to do it."

"You threaten me with sex, dear boy? I haven't had any for… oh dear, for decades. If ever…" Ezra genuinely couldn't remember. "So… not threatened."

"You're asexual, angel? And no, it doesn't change a thing, means I have to adjust. I'm very adjustable."

"Bet you are… bet you are. I don't want to talk about it on  _ our first date. _ " Ezra shook his head, as if he had known better. 

" _ If it be your will that I speak no more and my voice be still as it was before I will speak no more I shall abide until I am spoken for if it be your will, _ " Crowley sang wistfully. He focused on his food from then on and let Ezra choose their next topic of conversation, but no topics came to Ezra's mind, and Ezra was miserable for it, until his gaze got stuck on the unicorns and he asked about them.

"Oh, kids love fluffy silly things, and to be honest, so do I. But don't tell anybody, or Bea will leave me with the cancer kids for a week… I might not survive it. Because I'm not nice and I don't care." Crowley sniffled.

He paid the bill and carefully drove Ezra back to his place. 

"Well. That was a thing," Crowley said to the dashboard, then tried to sneak a look at Ezra. "Do you… do you want to do it again? I want to!  _ I want to hold your hand, I want to hold your hand.  _ Fuck! I should take my medication religiously! Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck!"

"Do you kiss your… whomever with that mouth of yours?" Ezra asked. 

"No, I don't." Crowley replied sadly.

"So, you consider me an easy conquest?" Ezra frowned.

Crowley sighed. "No. Just don't have a  _ whomever  _ at this point. That's why I asked you out. I hardly ever had a  _ whomever _ , you know. They are all… boring. Don't make dinner into a poem worthy of Homer, you know? Isn't it boring? So… shall I see you again?"

Ezra wanted to consider his reply, but decided it didn't matter after all.

"Dinner tomorrow? My treat?"

"Isn't it too fast?" Crowley teased. "Forget about it, I'd love to. Pick you up at…"

"Seven. From the hospital."

"Eden, right? Angel…" Crowley smiled like the devil he was. 

Ezra got out of the car. Crowley drove off. Ezra sighed. His phone buzzed. It was Ana. She texted:  _ HOW THE FUCK WAS IT? DID YOU KISS HIM? _

Ezra didn't know what he felt, so he went up to his flat and fell asleep on the sofa in the living room.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: cancer in kids.

Ezra woke up, had a shower and got ready for work. As he was making his tea, his reflection, mischievous and playful, reminded him of the previous night.

Oh dear. He had had a date. His date was a much,  _ too much  _ younger man who went out of his way to make sure  _ he  _ would be blamed for any indecency, and what the fuck was  _ indecent  _ anyway?

Ezra had his cup of tea, ate his toast and rushed to work.

Somewhere etc nurse Crowley was talking a child with leukemia into getting that needle into their vein, and  _ did anyone approach you, did anybody coach you _ ?

***

They were a nervous young family. She, a trans woman and an ambassador to the UK with a lot on her plate as it was, and he, a pregnant trans man, a house spouse who really didn't know what to do with himself. The meeting was good, it was fruitful, and Ezra was worn out after it, so of course Tracy came in wriggling her hands. "We need a good, nay, the best neonatal nurse, Ezra, please! Everyone's been recommending me that Crowley boy and I heard you're dating him…"

Ezra expected the next sentence to be about how he had to stop dating _that_ _Crowley boy_ , but what he heard instead was "Can't you persuade him to work here? You're such a sweetheart, Ezra! I'm sure he'd love to work close to you."

Ezra stared at Tracy without really seeing her. He was seeing the pink unicorns and yellow rubber ducks, the yellow eyes, yearning and eager to please…

"I'm sixty," Dr Fell said.

"Oh I know, Ezra, but it really doesn't matter and we desperately need a good neonatal nurse, especially after Gabriel…" 

Dr Fell shuddered, and it wasn't pleasant at all.

"Sorry, love… Do you think you could talk to your boy?"

"He's not my boy." Ezra persisted.

"Give it time. Ana says he's smitten with you." Tracy winked and Ezra blinked. He needed a break. 

Oh but of course he was a good doctor,  _ a very good doctor,  _ and he had places to go and patients to attend to,  _ miles to drive and promises to keep, you ditch it all to stay alive a thousand kisses deep _ … Oh sugar, he was singing, and about kisses, no less. Crowley definitely had a mouth. He had a fetching mouth. Oh the things one could do with one's mouth… Like for example, comfort a scared woman with the risk of eclampsia… Or, alternatively, sing to a scared child attached to their IV chemotherapy… 

***

Nurse Crowley swayed and swaggered into the hospital. His uniform today was pale blue and had little angels printed on it. Crowley was singing, of course:

_ "I belieeeeeve in angels… something good in every thing I see…"  _ He was hit with a box of tissues and Bea's scowl.

"Cancer ward. Sorry. You're alright?" The scowl disappeared, but Crowley didn't believe in Bea's scowls in the first place. He would scowl too, but not today. Today he grinned and felt he was indeed alright, and rather more than alright, so he replied, as he danced down the hall:

_ "Nothing's gonna change my world, nothing's gonna change my world…"  _ And then added out of the blue:  _ "Strawberry fields forever!" _

"That's the spirit!" Nurse Crowley announced at the end of his shift, as he was crying out all the pent up tears and used Bea's box of tissues most vehemently. 

"What is? That everything is shit?" Bea inquiried. They spent the day in neonatal care, but were generally inclined towards darker things in life, and they were always able to find darker things in life. They had a heart of gold and were currently partaking in the box of tissues.

"If you have enough happiness in your life, then you actually got what to give to the kids and tend to see…"

"Everything in… better light. I know. I take it the date  _ finally  _ happened."

"It did! And now I'm not feeling like the world is going to end."

"It is, though," Bea reminded. "Not that I like the idea… Anyway, how was the date?"

Crowley opened and closed his mouth and just grinned.

"Oh fuck. Putting you into the cancer ward everyday, if you  _ have so much to give _ ."

"Yes. And I welcome it! Not the cancer, especially not in kids. You can't kill kids. We're having dinner again today.  _ Tonight is super trouper, lights are gonna blind me, but I won't feel blue, like I always do, cause somewhere in the crowd there's you. _ "

"I'm glad you don't take your meds. Hastur might hate you, but he hates everyone except for his husband, and you don't disturb anyone. You're adorable."

Crowley scowled, and Bea scowled back. They held hands.

"We're not nice!" They swore together.

***

Crowley put on his red shoes, singing both David Bowie and Tom Waits intermittently, and Ezra put on his bluest shirt, buttoning it with trembling fingers.

Crowley slithered his way inside his tightest black jeans, and Ezra gave up and let Ana do his bowtie (he had brought a change of clothes with him in the morning).

Crowley moussed his hair and added a chaotic touch when he chose a soft cashmere sweater with v-neck, then changed it to a red turtleneck, then changed back. Ezra looked in the mirror. Ana looked at Ezra.

"Objects in the mirror are hotter than they appear," she cheered sincerely. 

"Also older," Ezra replied. 

"And so what? You have all the tools. Take him to the most boring place you like… Suggest a date in the botanical garden."

"I love botanical gardens… And he definitely doesn't."

"See, so you're going to screw it anyway, and if so, why don't do it with style?" Ana hugged Dr Fell. "Try to have fun. You had yesterday."

"I told you nothing, dear girl."

"No, but you're dreamy."

Ezra had had enough and left. 

***

The place was disgustingly romantic, which Ezra had never noticed before. After all, he didn't have dates and the lasagna was to die for, and who needs a date when there's lasagna? 

Crowley looked far too beautiful. He smiled at Ezra, as if Ezra had found a cure for cancer  _ and  _ kissed Crowley in the morning. At least Ezra hoped that the combination could have such an effect on Crowley. 

"So, my dear," Ezra began, feeling giddy and like being a bastard. He had just blessed Crowley with a moan caused by a mouthful of fettuccine Alfredo. 

"Yessss, angel?" Crowley positively purred. His own pasta alla Romana was getting cold in front of him.

"Which lovely print did you wear today?" Ezra asked. And moaned. And caught himself - his mouth was empty. 

"Are you flirting with me, angel?" Crowley asked, drawling. And maybe drooling, but like, hypothetically.

"I am, dear boy. So. What was it?"

Crowley was rather silly with his besottedness and didn't reply, just gazing at his  _ date.  _

"I'm interpreting your silence as you wearing something boring throughout the day, and I can't approve of such behaviour." 

"Angels. The print was angels."

"Was it? How delightful!" Ezra stopped verbal flirting and enjoyed his food and Crowley's reaction to Ezra's joy. Delightful indeed.

" _ It's delightful, it's delicious, it's de-lovely. You can tell at a glance what a swell night this is for romance. You can hear, dear Mother Nature murmuring low "Let yourself go! _ " Crowley sang. His voice was full of yearning, and Ezra found Crowley's yearning irresistible.

So he upped his game.

"You know, dear boy, that under my jacket I'm wearing nothing but a waistcoat, a shirt and an undershirt? I'm wearing only briefs and socks under my pants."

Crowley's jaw dropped. Coincidentally someone dropped their glass at the same moment, so, for all intents and purposes, Crowley's jaw seemed to have shattered to pieces. Ezra giggled. 

"I'm completely naked under my clothes," Crowley finally muttered. Somehow he was ridiculous and Ezra wasn't.

"How scandalous, dear boy," Ezra murmured. "Do eat, Crowley…" 

Their waiter came to check on them and dropped the first bomb of the evening:

"Are you and your son enjoying the meal?" The waiter asked.

Ezra paled. Crowley… Crowley suddenly turned into an overly protective hellhound. 

"Oh, but Dr Fell isn't my father," Crowley scowled, then did something with his shoulders and torso that definitely belonged in a pornographic film, and continued: "Dr Fell is my  _ daddy _ , and you're being an insensitive ageist pig, which I'm afraid is going to show up once we tip you… or not." He glanced at Ezra and carefully took his hand. "See, I'm here trying to court the sexiest, hottest man on this accursed planet, and you just come over and ruin my plans…" Crowley turned his head to Ezra. "Angel, how about we go someplace else? We could take the food and go home to enjoy it without all those  _ humans _ spoiling our date, hm?"

Ezra made a face that Crowley learned to recognise as the  _ I'm sixty  _ face, and Crowley squeezed Ezra's hand, brought it to his lips and made another suggestion: "Or we could stay and properly scandalise this place… Anything you want,  _ daddy. _ "

Regaining his composure, Ezra squeezed Crowley's hand back. The waiter opted for a sudden disappearance. 

"What a fucking arsehole!" Crowley said. He appeared to have no inclination to let go off Ezra's hand, which Ezra both appreciated and feared. 

"He's right, though…" Ezra began.

"No!" Crowley snapped. "He's fucking not! You're beautiful, and I… I like your wrinkles, and your hair, and your fucking stupid clothes, and the fact that you're thirty fucking years older than me! I like all of you, and I liked all of you the moment you almost fainted in a fucking park!.." Crowley looked up guiltily. " _ Linger on, you pale blue eyes… _ " He begged.

"Why… why aren't you eating, dear boy?" Ezra asked quietly after a few heavy silent moments. 

" _ Can't take my eyes off of you… _ " Crowley replied. 

"Well, don't, if you can't, but the food  _ is  _ delicious here… Would you like to try mine?"

Crowley pushed his plate to the middle of the table invitingly, and Ezra did the same. They ended up eating from both plates and chatting about pasta machines. Crowley's was old, his mother bought it during one of their old-car-hunting trips somewhere in Italy  _ (That FIAT, angel… Absolutely adorable.)  _ and Ezra's was not working, but was vintage too. 

"I could fix it for you, if you want." Crowley offered. Ezra's hand was getting sweaty under Crowley's, but Crowley didn't seem to care. His own palm was sweaty too, Ezra realised, and Ezra couldn't give a damn. Everything was better with some lubrication… Ezra blushed.

Ezra tipped the waiter, because he was an angel. Crowley suggested they'd walk to Ezra's place. Ezra could barely reply, but those cool, clever hands cupped his face, soothing and tender.

"Just want to walk you home, angel. Don't want the evening to end just yet, ok?  _ Drove you to the station. Never asked you why. Held you for a little while, my, oh my, oh my…  _ I swear I will take my meds, I will!"

"But dear boy… I do love Leonard Cohen." Ezra pouted.

"Won't take my meds ever again." Crowley promised. 

They walked in companionable silence, Crowley being a sex bomb, and Ezra being one too, but to be honest, neither was aware of it. 

"Well… that's me." Ezra glanced at his door and Crowley gazed at Ezra.

"That's you." Crowley smiled. He was softer than Ezra's tummy, and that was some undisputable softness there. "I had a great time. Can I see you again?"

"Not tomorrow though!" Ezra replied hastily.

"Whenever you like." Crowley shrugged. 

Ezra remembered Ana's words. He didn't want to risk it, he really didn't, but it all was  _ too good to be true… _ Ezra didn't want… No, Ezra wanted to be sure. He wanted certainty more than happiness. 

"How about… I mean. It's Thursday. How about we go to the botanical garden Saturday? Or Sunday?"

Crowley paled, and Ezra felt painful relief - that was it, he thought, too old, too boring.

"I work on Sunday, angel. Night shift. Neonatal. Saturday is good. Saturday morning especially. Then I'll have time to nap. And Saturday is closer than Sunday." Crowley hummed. "I love botanical gardens, you know? It's a dream date. I was afraid to ask… Thought you'd consider it too boring."

Ezra's head snapped up to look at Crowley. And he was so lovely. He was so beautiful. He loved botanical gardens… They had to kiss. If only Crowley could hear Ezra's thoughts…

"How about… how about we go to the botanical garden Saturday, then you'll sleep… I could make… I mean I could order a takeaway for us… We'll eat together and… Perhaps it's too much time together…"

Crowley's face brightened so much it was blinding, frankly. "Yes," he breathed out. "Yes, I'd love that! And once… I mean, I… I will sleep till lunch, I guess… we could have lunch together on Sunday. Do you want it? Would you like it?" Crowley was so heartbreakingly hopeful, Ezra wouldn't have said no, even if he hadn't longed for the same.

"I… could bring another takeaway…"

"Sure! Bring your pasta machine too. I'll fix it. I'm not as good as mom was, but I think I can do it!"

"What about your father, my dear?"

"Oh… ehm… Her gay friend donated his… ehm… seed? They raised me together, they did. He's still alive, you know? Dear old drag queen, he is. He's moved to New York recently. Does make up and suchlike for different shows. Loud, larger than life. It's unnerving, really. Nursed mom through her illness… I was a mess. That's too much information, isn't it?"

"That's just enough to banish Dr Freud, my darling," Ezra replied. 

"Oh, that bugger… he has no place here. I like  _ you _ , because I like  _ you. So taunt me, and hurt me, deceive me, desert me…  _ Oh fuck, that's too much… Gonna miss you tomorrow, angel. We could have a drink, you know? Would you… would you like to have a drink tomorrow?"

"I'd  _ love  _ to have a drink tomorrow, darling… Maybe tomorrow you can kiss me goodnight." Ezra wiggled.

"Bastard. I'd snog you silly right now. Just so you know! No pressure.  _ Under pressure… _ " Crowley took a step back to avoid a disaster, but Ezra looked heartbroken, so Crowley stepped forward and warned: "I'm going to hold you, angel. Is this alright?"

"Please… oh please." Ezra whimpered. He was enveloped in terribly long arms the very next moment. 

"Angel… beautiful, soft, old angel. You remind me of that story by Marquez, you do… But in the best possible way. Actually, it's nothing like Marquez. I don't even like Marquez…" Crowley let go - too soon. "I'll call you tomorrow. Or text. Gonna miss your voice, so I guess I'm gonna call… We'll have that drink, ok?"

"I promise, my dear.  _ Darling. _ " 

"Good. Great actually. See you tomorrow."

"See you, dearest. Mind how you go."

Ezra forced himself to turn and walk to his door and through it. 

A few hours later Crowley received a voicemail from Ezra. 

" _ Dearest, I don't want you to miss me, so it's just my way of saying goodnight to you. Remember that letter? Goethe's letter I mean… Don't remember who it was addressed to, but the main message was that it was only to say goodnight, so… good night, darling. Have a great day. Sleep well. I'm afraid I miss you too. _ "

Crowley could only manage a long message consisting of heart emojis alone.


	4. Chapter 4

The following evening Ezra refused Ana's help with his bowtie. He pulled said bowtie off of his neck and having folded it neatly, put it into his bag. 

Ana was watching her one and only father in front of the mirror, as he hummed and took off his waistcoat and jacket. Tracy was summoned to take care of it, dry cleaning and all. The bag… oh the bag could stay in Dr Fell's office until Monday. 

And Dr Fell put on his cream-coloured (pony) coat, left the collar a complete mess, took his phone, smiled at it mischievously… Ana and Tracy opened a bottle of champagne that night. They were celebrating something else, of course, but in fact they were celebrating the sheer glory of Dr Fell's messy collar.

The April wind was cool and refreshing, there was a hop to Dr Fell's step, as he called Crowley. He had teased himself enough, he had.

"Dear boy? Are you finished, darling? How about I walk over to your hospital… Oh… oh I see…"

Crowley apologised and asked Ezra to wait just an hour more. 

"Drinks on me, angel, I promise. A bit of emergency here, and Bea told them I'm the best… Bea had been telling them I'm the best forever, actually… Not to brag, but I'm totally bragging. I'll just take care of that prematurely born darling in my arms, and then I'm all yours… oh fuck, I hope so. Need to negotiate with a baby, angel, I'll call you back."

Dr Fell walked back to the Eden hospital, took his things, shared a glass of champagne with Ana and Tracy and went home.

In his flat Dr Fell had a shower, relished in his clean and fresh clothes afterwards, dried his hair with the fluffiest towel ever, made himself a cup of tea… His phone buzzed.

"Heya, angel. I'm all yours now. Should I pick you up?"

Ezra grinned at his reflection in the glass door of his cupboard. 

"Yes, dearest. I'll be waiting."

"No, no way. Gonna defy some traffic laws and a few laws of physics. With you in a moment."

***

The print of the day was little shimmering pears upon the emerald green of Crowley's uniform.

"Sorry." Crowley was breathing so hard Ezra was afraid he'd been running all the way from his hospital over to Ezra's place. "Didn't have… didn't want to waste any time to change…" He took in Ezra's soft corduroy pants (dark beige) and a well worn white shirt with the first two buttons undone, and suddenly Crowley's thumb was on the hollow of Ezra's neck, and Crowley's long cool fingers were on the back of Ezra's neck, and his other hand wove its way into Ezra's grey-white hair, and Crowley's thin cool (and fuck, hot) lips were on Ezra's mouth. 

Ezra grabbed Crowley's waist to press the younger man against his tummy, which was more than welcome, judging by Crowley's approving groan. Crowley's tongue was cool and wicked against Ezra's hot and pliant one. 

"I'm sorry…" Crowley moaned, breaking the kiss only to kiss along Ezra's jaw. "You're unbearably beautiful tonight…" He traced every wrinkle on Ezra's face with his lips (cool  _ and  _ hot, fuck you, physics!) and whimpered desperately as Ezra pushed his hand under the pear-printed shirt.

"Oh sugar cookies, shut up!" Ezra moaned back, and crushed his mouth against Crowley's. 

"A drink… you wanted a drink," Crowley protested unconvincingly when Ezra sucked on the skin under Crowley's ear. "And… I ruined it, angel, because you wanted a goodnight kiss… Oooh…"

"There, darling, properly marked for tonight…" Ezra blew over the hickey soothingly. "Now everyone will know  _ who's your daddy. _ " Dr Fell smirked, then fully comprehended what he had just said and blushed. "I… I'm sorry, Crowley… I… I'm sixty…" Ezra's back hit the bookshelf. (Yes, he had bookshelves in his hall, and I don't know why  _ you  _ don't, there must be a bookshelf on every wall of every room!) Crowley had his hand on the back of Ezra's head and his other hand pressed into Ezra's chest.

"Shut it!" Crowley growled furiously. "You're fucking perfect and…" Crowley caught Ezra's glance as it shifted to Crowley's lips and shut Ezra the best way one could - by kissing him again.

They stood there holding each other, Crowley was singing something, swaying Ezra back and forth. 

"If we stay any longer, I'm going to become fucking indecent." Crowley confessed.

"Me too, dearest." Ezra said wistfully into Crowley's well-kissed ear. "You know… I have good wine. We could have a drink here… you could fix my pasta machine…"

"Make pasta and eat together?" Crowley asked dreamily.

"Yes. It does sound rather lovely, doesn't it?"

"Whatever you want, angel… Really.  _ Hold me tight, tell me I'm the only one… _ Fuck. Cohen. Cohen…  _ If you want a lover, I'll do anything you ask me to. And if you want another kind of love, I'll wear a mask for you… If you want a driver, climb inside, or if you want to take me for a ride, you know you can. I'm your man. _ "

Ezra giggled, and Crowley chuckled. It was perhaps the best ever third date in the history of the third dates. 

Crowley had with him a change of clothes, so he sauntered out of Ezra's bathroom wearing indecently tight black jeans and a loose black t-shirt.

"Dearest, how do you even put these on?" Ezra asked. He had found his pasta machine and was in the process of cleaning it. It might as well have demanded an archeologist, judging by the amount of dust. Crowley's glass of wine was waiting for Crowley, and the young man grabbed it as he walked over to Ezra, his hand welcome and casual on the small of Ezra's back.

"Quite a lot of Vaseline," Crowley replied, examining the relic on the kitchen counter.

Ezra looked at his sharp profile, a crown of short auburn hair above his face. He was beautiful, he was absolutely stunning, he had his hand on Ezra's back and a glass of wine in his other hand. Ezra had to kiss him, so he quickly pecked Crowley's cheek. Crowley turned his head to look at Ezra, ashamed and red.

"Oh no, angel… no Vaseline. Just a lot of… hopping in.  _ Don't mean a thing if you ain't got that swing _ … And you're so lovely and tender, and your crow feet are the best crow feet in the whole world.  _ Linger on, you pale blue eyes _ ."

"Not going anywhere," Ezra rasped. 

"Please don't…" Crowley's hand went up, until his arm was around Ezra's shoulders.

"You take my breath away, Crowley…"

" _ Through the hourglass I saw you… In time you slipped away _ … Did you mean literally? Are you unwell?" Crowley looked at Ezra with heartbreakingly tender concern.

"I… I think I've never been better, but… but I'm sixty, Crowley, and therefore a bit… dizzy."

"Sit down, angel. This thing is not broken, it's assembled badly and is far too dusty. I'll wash it in no time… you sit. Sip your wine. I'll take care of you."

And this, this last thing, this last sentence, said so simply, it broke the damn dam. Ezra clutched Crowley's shoulders and sobbed into the young man's chest.

"Oh… oh no… angel. What have I done? Ezra? Hey, I'm here… or you don't want me here?"

Ezra shook his head and sobbed louder.

"Oh… so… I can stay. Good… It's alright. It's fine, angel. You're… you're everything I could ever want, you know? And I want to take care of you, I do.  _ All I ever wanted to do was close the window while he soundly slept, raid the icebox where the food is kept, cook a breakfast that would please him most - eggs and coffee and some buttered toast, wake him gently with a breakfast tray, after breakfast clear the things away, bring the papers and when they've been read spend the balance of the day in bed… _ "

Ezra sobbed louder again. "I'm… making a mess of your shirt!" He wailed.

"Nah, never washing it again, angel. Your snot is the best thing too. Well, second best after that premie… She's so damn cute! Mom called her Riley. It means "valiant"  _ and  _ ends like my name… it's embarrassing, really."

"It's ok. There are quite a few girls named Ezra because of me," Ezra replied. He wasn't ready to let go of Crowley. The boy was so thin, he'd disappear, had Ezra let go. "Told them it was silly. Didn't listen to me… Nobody ever does."

"I do." Crowley carefully pushed Ezra away to look him in the eye. "I listen to you. I'd listen to you all the bloody time."

"You don't know me…"

"Angel… would you let me get to know you better?"

"Why are you so… so careful, so gentle, so… so… so ineffable? I mean… If you wanted to… to fuck me, why haven't you? And if you didn't, then why are you here?" Ezra's face was the one of painful resignation. 

"Oh angel… silly old angel. I want to take you to bed and make slow and soft love to you, but you… you don't seem to want the same. You just say the word, angel… I'd love to talk about it, but which sauce did you have in mind? For our pasta."

"I'm… I think I don't have anything."

"Ok. Should we drive over to mine? I'll make the pasta, you'll bring the alcohol? I can walk you home afterwards, I'm not that far… And I can give up my bed for you, if you don't want to leave. We're… we're still going to the botanical garden tomorrow?"

"Yes! Please. All of it. Everything you said."

Frankly, Crowley was so overwhelmed at the moment that he could hardly remember what he had said, but had to be something good, since Ezra stopped crying. 

***

Crowley's flat was sleek, modern and organised to the point of being an ideal hospital… oh, because that was the whole thing. 

"It's… both you and… not you…" Ezra opined, having walked around. 

"How so?" Crowley was making pasta.

"The plants are you. Green, mischievous, alive and all over the place." For this answer Ezra was rewarded with Crowley's laughter and a tender embrace. 

"Everything else is so… sleek. So… like… as if you wanted to appear very cool. Which you don't need, because you are very cool." And for this reply Ezra was pulled into a kiss.

"You think I'm cool!" Crowley squeed.

"Of course you are, dearest. You are handsome, young, the best pediatric nurse I've met… Gabriel was… is a pediatric nurse." Ezra's face appeared older than the world itself and not in a good way. Crowley held him again.

"Who's Gabriel?"

Upon being informed who Gabriel was, Crowley had to be held very tight. He cursed like a drunk sailor, he recited Communist Manifesto and quoted captain Ahab, he opted to cook Arrabiata, and it was delicious, in the end, but Ezra couldn't help remembering the meaning of the word  _ arrabiata _ . At some point Crowley walked over to a very pretty ficus and yelled at it. 

"Darling, no need to be so overwhelmed…"

"I'm not overwhelmed, angel. I'm overwhelmed that you're in my flat, eating the food I made for you. About that wanker I'm fucking furious! Ice-cream?"

"Well, you need to cool down, darling."

"Bastard," Crowley replied tenderly.

Crowley told Ezra how he had completely redecorated the flat after his mother's death - and that was how the second bedroom was lost to Crowley's passion for plants - just like Ezra's books the pots of all shapes and sizes took over the place completely in the end.

Ezra brightened. "Darling, how about we sleep there? Like… like camping, but safe and sound and without bugs."

"Angel, this is genius!" Ezra was kissed yet again, and then some more, until both men were short for breath and Ezra had almost lost his shirt. 

Crowley found some old carpets (old-car-hunting sometimes turned into lovely-old-things-hunting) and put them into his plant room, one on top of another, until it was safe to say that the makeshift bed was warm, soft and delightfully cozy. Crowley's bed linens were a masterpiece of all things flowery, green and growing. Crowley's bed wear, on the other hand, was just briefs and a shirt. From his side of the "bed" Ezra looked as Crowley settled himself under his blanket (he was a noble knight, he was, Ezra had two blankets, just in case) and asked:

"Crowley, do you legs ever end?" It was a good question. It helped Ezra concentrate on the considerable length of Crowley's legs and not on what said legs did to his old heart. 

Crowley frowned and apparently wiggled his toes. "They do… yes. The feet can feel too far sometimes."

"I like your legs," Ezra said with more feeling than one should put into complementing someone's legs.

Crowley looked at him pointedly. "Like your legs too, angel." He turned away from Ezra and for a while Dr Fell was staring into the dark silhouette of Crowley's back and head. 

"Would you like me to hold you as we sleep?" Crowley asked. There was so much worry in his voice, Ezra wanted to yell at him that he'd like nothing more than to be held by Crowley until morning and the rest of his life; he wanted to yell that he was a fool in love with Crowley; he wanted to say that nobody had ever cared about him that much or asked such silly questions. 

"Of course I'd like you to hold me, you idiot." Ezra whispered. 

Crowley immediately turned to him. After some wriggling and wiggling Ezra's head landed on Crowley's bony shoulder. Ezra sighed softly and contently. "This is… wonderful, dearest… Thank you."

"It actually totally is my pleasure, angel… It's Anthony, you know. I prefer Crowley, but it's Anthony."

"I'm so very glad to have made your acquaintance, my dearest Crowley."

"Ngk," Crowley replied. "I really don't want to sing right now… Tired as anything tired. Sleep well, angel. I'll hold you until morning."

Crowley was snoring quietly (and adorably) the next moment. Ezra tried to stay awake, to soak in the smells of plants, the smell of the spring wind coming in through opened windows, the smell of Crowley, the sound of his breath, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest… But it was indeed safe and sound, comfortable beyond anything Ezra had ever known, and he couldn't help falling asleep soon after Crowley. He dreamed of regretting falling asleep, he was missing out on this magical night, but Crowley must have held him tighter sometime during the night, so Ezra's dreams turned into something lovely that definitely involved a lot of Crowley singing  _ Pale Blue Eyes  _ to a rose bush.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut! Mind the rating change. This chapter is just smut and some crepes.

Ezra woke up to the delicious smell of something… something thin, slim and round… Crepes! 

He then realised that he was sprawled across the bed because apparently his body was fighting the loss of Crowley's warmth to the last. Ezra lifted his head and saw a lovely garden table, all iron lace and lovely signs of being old and beloved and well-used (Ezra blushed - his morning brain was naughty, and  _ that  _ was something new). Ezra noticed a huge pot of aloe-vera on the floor by the table. The plant was obviously angry and jealous for being settled on the floor, while its human carer only cared for food and that other grey-blond-haired human… There were other lovely tables around, after all. 

Ezra sat up just as Crowley walked into the room. The young man grinned, settled the plate with a pile of crepes on the table, much to the aloe vera's dismay and jumped on the bed to sit next to Ezra.

"Morning, angel!  _ In the sweet light of the morning, as the sun begins to shine, I was awaken by some singing, the birds just flying by. Now, whether it's good news or it's just blues, today's gonna be a good day, I'm gonna make it that way… _ " 

Open-mouthed and lovestruck, Ezra gazed at his young  _ gentleman friend _ . Crowley giggled and kissed Ezra's cheek, but instead of retreating, he nuzzled Ezra's face and moaned:

"You smell so good, angel… This is just lovely… you smell of you and my bed linen and very good sleep… I'm so happy to see you…" Crowley finally moved back a bit. Not finally, no, he had no right to pull back, he had to smell Ezra a little bit more, naughty boy, sweet fiend. "You talk in your sleep, angel, and you were talking about crepes, so… I made some!" Crowley gestured at the table, loaded with marmalades, sour cream, cream cheese and some fruit. 

Ezra leaned forward and snogged Crowley. Crowley made a sound of utter delight, so Ezra pushed him back on the bed and kept snogging him. Crowley smelled lovely himself - crepes, plants, aftershave, early morning, late night, and before Ezra could even register what he was saying he blurted out into Crowley's well-kissed lips that he wanted him.

"Want you too, angel," Crowley replied, softly and calmly. "Whatever you want. But the crepes will get cold, so… Would you like some… refreshment and energy boost first?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't… it's so unbecoming…"

Crowley stopped Ezra's mumbling with a dry cool finger to the older man's lips. 

"It's very becoming. Very welcome, too. You want me now, you got me now. You want to eat and hopefully moan about the food I made for you, you got this too."

Ezra was used to spoiling himself with food, while that  _ want you  _ business was a strange uncharted territory. The crepes won. 

And as Ezra tasted them, sitting primly on a matching iron laced chair, he was entirely justified in his choice. Ezra moaned, to Crowley's joyful defeat.

"I suppose I won't have to go to Paris for crepes anymore… Sorry. I'm sorry. I'm presumptuous…"

"I'll make them for you every day, if you let me." Crowley smiled. 

"My dear boy, you can't say things like that after three days. It's not a… I tend to believe what people say, and… please, don't play into the poetry of this lovely morning. I know you can't possibly mean it and…"

"Shut up," Crowley asked tenderly, taking Ezra's hand. "Why would I need any more than three days, if I know?"

"Know what, dearest?"

"That if you let me, I'll make crepes for you every day." 

"Isn't it… a bit too fast? Isn't it too bloody fast, Crowley?"

"Then tell me how fast or slow you'd like me to go."

"What is it you want that you are so… so compliant? What's in it for you?" Ezra looked at the young man, hopeful and scared and confused. Shouldn't it have been the other way around? Shouldn't it have been Ezra to be so sure and knowing, since he was the older one?

"You. I want you. There's you in it for me. Eat your crepes, angel. It's alright.  _ I have confidence in sunshine, I have confidence in rain, I have confidence that spring will come again, besides that, you see, I have confidence in me… _ "

"You know, dear, I hate  _ The Sound of Music _ ."

"Thought so. Everything's so positive, and a young woman is totally smitten with a much older man, but what is the best, he's just as smitten with her… Just takes him too much bloody time to realise it. And it's all so hopeful, and unrealistic… Nothing to love for you there, angel. Everything to love for me."

"You… fiend."

"Perhaps… but I make good crepes."

"That you do, dearest."

After they finished their breakfast (Crowley barely ate, of course) the younger man cleaned everything, bluntly refusing any help. Ezra sat on their makeshift bed and waited… He did want Crowley, he was patient, if only Crowley could be patient with him… 

Crowley returned from the kitchen and climbed up into bed. He sat next to Ezra and was being extremely patient. 

"So… gardens? Balance of the day in bed?.. If you have any doubts I still want you…" 

"I… I've never… never been with anyone before. I… read. I think. I fantasize. I have no idea what to do."

"Afraid to disappoint me?" Crowley asked quietly. He took Ezra's hand and brought it to his lips. 

"Yes."

"Thank you for telling me."

"I… you… you must be so experienced and… rightfully want to be pleased and… I don't know what to do."

"Is there anything you want to do, angel?"

"I… want… want to be touched. Want to touch too…"

"Alright… where do you want me to touch you? No, do you want  _ me  _ to touch you?"

"Yes, very much, dearest." Ezra whimpered.

"Come here." Crowley lay back and pulled Ezra with him, so they rested on their sides, facing each other. "Now. It's a lot of options, and you seem scared and overwhelmed, and you know what?"

"What, dearest?"

"I fucking adore it that you're brave enough to be scared." Crowley lightly kissed Ezra's nose.

"And you… you…"

"I'm not scared. I'm excited. I'm honoured. I'm happy. No, I  _ am _ scared. Scared I won't make it as good for you as you deserve. Let's do it the Socrates way," Crowley suggested.

"Driving each other mad until one of us wants to poison the other?" Ezra raised his eyebrows.

"No, angel. We ask questions. You start?"

"I… Do you… where would you like me to touch you?" 

"That's a good one," Crowley praised with a smile. "I'd like you to grab my arse, to be completely frank with you."

Ezra moved his hand and stopped it midair. "M… may I?"

" _ Be… our… guest, be our guest… _ "

Ezra giggled. His hand cupped Crowley's arse, the soft fabric of the young man's briefs was very nice to the touch, but the gasp escaping Crowley's mouth was even better.

"Just… just leave it there, my dear?"

"Feel free. Go wild." Crowley pecked Ezra's nose. Ezra hummed. He gently squeezed Crowley's buttock, rubbed it, then indeed felt free and went wild, sliding under the fabric and feeling Crowley's cool dry skin covered in soft hair.

"Angel, you're so good…"

"I… I haven't done… much."

"Yeah, gonna die when you do." Crowley winked. "My turn. Would you like us to be naked?"

"I'm… I'm not handsome. I'm soft." Ezra replied. His hand stopped gently caressing Crowley's lovely rear, skinny and perfect.

"Doesn't answer my question." Crowley kissed Ezra's forehead. Ezra impatiently jerked his head to capture Crowley's mouth.

"Mmmm… Ruining me there. Your lips are soft and your hands are soft. I have nothing against softness. Just so you know. Would you like me to be naked?" Crowley inquired.

"I will have a heart attack, I'm afraid." Ezra was flustered.

"Can't allow for it, angel. Is a little bit of seduction allowed? Temptation?" Crowley asked,  _ tempting. _

"Do tempt me, dearest."

"You, angel, tempt all the time. It's really nice to be naked together, especially if there's some… some undeniable attraction."

"You… you had someone like that?" Funny, Ezra thought, he should have been jealous of my sixty years without him… Although, Ezra reminded himself, there's nothing about my sixty years to be jealous about.

"I didn't. But I read too. I have quite an imagination, too. I allowed myself to imagine what it would be like with you. I almost had a heart attack myself. Your turn. I asked two questions."

"Would you like to touch me?" Ezra asked, both pouting and terrified.

"I would fucking love to touch you, angel. Anywhere you let me."

"Touch me where… where you want to touch me."

Crowley smiled gratefully and kissed Ezra's chin. His hand slid between Ezra's thighs, sturdy and soft and unbearably white. "Cream cheese can't hold a candle to you. Is this alright? How does it feel?"

Instead of replying, Ezra shifted his upper leg, bending it at the knee to let Crowley caress the thigh of his lower leg.

"Thank you, angel. You're lovely." Crowley slid his hand up and down Ezra's thigh, lightly and with gentle pressure, traced the line of Ezra's hip, as he carefully watched the reaction on Ezra's face. "Is it good for you?"

"It's… it's delightful."

"It is for me, too." 

Ezra remembered about Crowley's arse, then allowed himself to mirror Crowley's touches.

"Dearest… I think… I think I'd like for both of us to be… to be naked." Ezra asked. 

"I'm that tempting, I know," Crowley chuckled happily. He helped Ezra out of his clothes and let Ezra do the same for him. "You're stunning." Crowley slid one arm under Ezra's neck to hold him. His other hand on the small of Ezra's back pressed the man closer to Crowley, until they touched all the way from their chests down to their interwoven legs. 

"Would you like to lie on top of me, angel?"

"I'm heavy…"

"Shhh. You dodge my questions expertly. Socrates himself would have gotten mad… Lucky for you, I'm mad about you just the same. So… my question."

"I'd love to…" Ezra admitted.

"Then come." Crowley rolled on his back pulling Ezra along until the older man was lying on him, nuzzling Crowley's neck and scared to breathe. Crowley rubbed soothing circles into Ezra's back. "You were right, angel, you  _ are _ soft, but you were wrong about this softness… it's… you're… you're remarkable. I like you so very much." 

"My very darling boy…"

"My very darling angel…"

"There's something… something I want to do. For you. For me too…"

"Anything you want, angel."

Ezra breathed in deeply and scooted down Crowley's body. Dr Fell wasn't one of those people who would look at Michelangelo's David and think  _ oh what a dick _ , referring to David's manhood. Dr Fell did think  _ oh what a dick _ thinking of David's sad moral demise after his separation from Jonathan. Looking at Crowley's, ahm, manhood Ezra would have thought  _ what a dick _ , but instead fell a surge of tenderness and desire and something that made him blink rapidly and breathe fast. He carefully licked from the base to the tip - and caught a hair in his mouth, to his embarrassment. Crowley laughed. He sat up and patted Ezra's back as the older man tried to spit the damn hair out and remain at least vaguely dignified. "It's alright, angel, it happens. Want water?"

Ezra pushed Crowley back. He wanted to do it, he did, and he was scared of doing it…

"Would you like me to tell you what I like?" Crowley asked carefully. 

"Yes, please!"

"Alright… Kiss the tip, just a feather light touch of your lips, if it's alri… aaaaa… Angel…" 

Crowley received some very feather light touches of Ezra's lips, which devoided the poor nurse of any capability to continue with his guidance. Ezra was a quick study anyway. For his next trick, he gingerly sucked on the head of Crowley's cocks, and Crowley seemed to be very approving.

"Fffff…. Angel…" Crowley's hips did have a life of their own when he walked, but decided to extend their independence by way of thrusting up into Ezra's mouth. "Sorry…"

Oh, but Ezra moaned in appreciation and caressed Crowley's hips, setting his thumbs on the creases between Crowley's legs and body. Just like with food, the more Ezra tried and tasted and found yet another way to twist his tongue a bit this or that way, the more he wanted to continue. The way Crowley sweetly trembled and mumbled praises was an additional motivation, and perhaps the strongest one. 

Just like with food, a thought of something else, something different, another way of pleasuring Crowley came to Ezra's mind, so he replaced his hand with his mouth, and moved to lick and kiss Crowley's perineum. The soft skin there and Crowley's incoherence brought about by Ezra's ministrations made Ezra's vision swirl and his blood rush to his own, ahm, manhood.

But oh, oh, oh, Ezra had orgasmed throughout his life, yet he had never given pleasure, had never lavished someone, anyone with caresses and kisses and gentle bites. And there he was, young and beautiful Crowley, squirming, panting, moaning, and through it all, praising Ezra.

"Angel… Ezra… ahhh! You're so good, you're so amazing… Ahhhhh… yes, yes, yes! I'm so… so lucky to have you with me. So lucky to have met you. You're beautiful… you're so beautiful…"

Ezra couldn't miss an opportunity to argue, so he raised his head and remarked:

"You can't see me, dear boy."

"Oh, but I see you every time I close my eyes…" Crowley moaned out without missing a beat. His eyes were shut, his face covered in sheen of pleasure, he was absolutely, utterly impossible… and saw Ezra every time he closed his eyes. Ezra returned to his perineum, at this point oblivious of his own arousal and drunk on Crowley, his smell, his taste, the sounds he made, the way his long legs came to rest on Ezra's shoulders and his beautiful feet sweetly rubbed along Ezra's back… Ezra remembered he had absolutely ignored Crowley's balls which wouldn't do, so he fixed his mistake quickly… Then he remembered that actually everything seemed to be so lovely, so loving, so right and darling, darling Crowley absolutely had to come because of Ezra and no one else, and thus Ezra put his mouth on Crowley's cock once again, refusing to abandon his perineum that received some proper tender loving care from Ezra's soft fingers…

"Angel…" Crowley warned.

"Yes, darling, please do…" Ezra softly sucked Crowley through his orgasm, scooted back up afterwards, lavishing his lover in kisses and wondering whatever he had done to turn Crowley into such a spectacular mess. 

"Angel…" Crowley repeated, holding Ezra close and rocking them both from side to side.

"Yes, dearest… I'm here." Ezra giggled. He was proud of himself and absolutely smitten with Crowley. 

"You're absolutely the best…  _ Oh but lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, come back to me… _ "

"Hm… Cohen. Thank you, dearest."

"Bastard…"

"That I am, apparently." Ezra giggled again.

"Angel… I… I want you to suck you off, too… May I?"

"Catch your breath first, dar… Aaaaaaahhhhh… ah…"

Ezra was suddenly on his back, Crowley was pushing Ezra's legs up, up, up, until Ezra was almost bent in half - and somehow still comfortable… Oh yes, because Crowley was holding Ezra's legs, was mouthing at Ezra's inner thighs, humming in delight and appreciation, until he stopped his own mouth with Ezra's cock.

"Aaarghhhh… Darling… oh darling…"

_ Darling  _ couldn't possibly reply,  _ darling  _ was very busy,  _ darling  _ was sucking the living breath out of Ezra, slow at first, then furiously bobbing his head up and down, careful, and then biting and nipping. Perhaps  _ darling  _ was also a bit of an octopus because his hands were everywhere - caressing Ezra's thighs, cupping his balls, massaging his perineum, teasing Ezra's entrance - being overall an astonishing, ravishing  _ darling _ . When Crowley sensed the tension in Ezra's muscles, he lowered Ezra's legs to rest on the bed, but he had an arm around each Ezra's leg, pulling Ezra's pelvis to his mouth… Oh,  _ darling  _ had no particular interest in food, but  _ darling  _ was devouring Ezra, and once Ezra came, Crowley covered him in comforting, soothing kisses, rubbed his legs, kissed his eyes, gingerly pressed his lips to Ezra's. 

Held him carefully.

"Thank you, angel. It was perfect. You were perfect…" 

"Dearest…" Ezra was crying - again.

"Angel?"

"It… it was my first time…"

Crowley propped himself up on an elbow and looked down at Ezra. "Did I hurt you? Did I overstep? Angel…"

"I… I'm just… I'm sixty."

"You mentioned once or twice."

"And it's my first time… and, my incredible boy," Ezra sweetly pressed his lips to Crowley's, "it was worth the wait."

Crowley grinned. He was disheveled, he was breathing heavily and he looked every bit as happy as Ezra himself felt.

"Shower?" Ezra asked. 

"Could do. Together?"

"Oh, definitely."


	6. Chapter 6

Crowley woke up alone about two hours before his shift was to start. He noticed that the room was dark, heard there was some movement in the kitchen, so he rushed there.

Ezra was warming up their takeaway.

"Oh dearest, hello, I was just…" Ezra was spun around and right into Crowley's mouth.

"You're precious, you're a treasure, fuck…  _ I swear it happened just like this, a sigh, a cry, a hungry kiss… _ Angel, my beautiful, my incredible angel…"

"Oh… oh darling…" Ezra moaned. Crowley's lips were gradually moving lower. "Darling, I hoped… you'd eat before your shift…"

"I will," Crowley promised, lowering Ezra's pants. "Gonna eat you, if you let me."

"Oh… Crowley… oh… yes, eat anything you want!" Ezra whimpered and tried to stay upright, but oh, oh, oh, Crowley was holding him, supporting him as he, well, feasted on Ezra's cock. "Sperm is quite rich in nutrients, after all…" Crowley's hands were on Ezra's arse, comforting, soothing, and pushing Ezra farther into Crowley's mouth. "Darling… darling… I have no objections but… oh sugar… I have no objections."

Crowley impatiently moved Ezra's legs over his shoulders and pressed Ezra against the kitchen counter.

"How many tongues do you have… oh fuck!"

Crowley had just one tongue, but oh, the way he used it, they way said tongue slithered inside Ezra's hole, the way it seemed to change its very shape…

"You… you serpent… Darling… Crowley, I don't want you to be late…"

Crowley hummed something unintelligible, but the general tone seemed to be the one of  _ whatever, angel _ . Suddenly, he stood up, his face close to Ezra's, his hand stroking Ezra's cock. "I need to tell you something. It's important. I won't be late. It's a short walk, we have time. Would you like to go back to bed?"

"I'd love to, dearest…" Ezra whispered.

"You look scared… Did I scare you?" Crowley cupped the older man's face. 

"I want you too much, Crowley, and it scares me."

"Give it a few years, angel. You'll cool down, we both will," Crowley reassured rather unreassuringly, in Ezra's opinion.

"I can't give it a few years, Crowley… You can't give it a few years. You're… sex drunk, and… Just… finish what you started." Ezra bit his lip to stop himself from crying.

"Angel…" Crowley reproached. "Perhaps it does sound preposterous, but… well, I guess I do have a lot of work to do to prove myself…" He put Ezra's clothes in order and kissed his tears away. "I won't  _ just finish what I started _ as long as you're crying in my arms and not for good reasons. I'm serious."

The last thing Crowley could be was serious, but his eyes were practically serene.

"My incredible angel, whom I loved at first sight, tell me, please, would you like to go to bed and let me make love to you or would you like us to eat while sulking, after which I'll be off to work?"

Ezra stared at Crowley. Crowley smiled back. Ezra undressed without a word. Crowley gasped and held Ezra close. 

"Come, angel," the younger man invited softly. Ezra followed him to the bed, to the bed proper, in Crowley's bedroom. 

"Angel… would you please, lie down? Put a pillow under your pelvis. I need complete access to that miracle they mistakenly call your arse."

It was Ezra's turn to gasp, but he did as he was so politely asked to do, and waited… for a full second. After that second, he felt Crowley's body covering his, felt tender kisses on his back, a few loving bites on his shoulder blades, felt clever hands spreading his arse cheeks (with a lot of cooing and singing on Crowley's part), felt quickened breath on his hole, and then Crowley's wicked tongue licked from Ezra's perineum to his hole, danced around and breached Ezra easily… Ezra moaned. He didn't need to think, so he didn't. He didn't need to hope, but he hoped anyway. He hoped it wouldn't be the last time, he hoped Crowley meant every word he said, he hoped he wouldn't die of how good it felt to have Crowley's tongue and lips on him, on the most embarrassing, intimate part of him, that Crowley didn't mind at all… Oh, and now Crowley's hand was gently stroking him. Alright, he might die, but what a way to go!

When Crowley left for work, Ezra was a mess, but metaphorically. All the literal mess Crowley had cleaned. 

And the dear boy hadn't even come! Oh, Ezra had to do better, he had to… He fell asleep.

He woke up late the next morning, Crowley snored next to him, and he needed to use the bathroom.

"Angel… don't go… be right as rain in a bit… please, don't go." Crowley mumbled in his sleep, and Ezra  _ had  _ to kiss him. So he did.

"I'll be back in a moment, darling. Need to use the bathroom. I'm an old man after all…"

"Young men use the bathroom all the time," Crowley replied. "You won't try to… leave me?"

" _ I tried to leave you, I won't deny it… I closed the book on us at least a hundred times. Still I wake up each and every morning right there by your side. _ "

"Don't sing Cohen to me, angel…" Crowley snored again. Ezra was supposed to roll his eyes, but all of him was rolling in the deep. He walked into the bathroom, used it, had a shower, and Crowley had a shower that required a doctorate in physics but… Ezra loved it. He went through the laundry, angels, unicorns, pears, hearts, gold fish, flowers with eyes, puppies, rainbows… Oh, why had no one ever written about the sheer joy of putting your beloved's uniform into the washing machine, and crawling back to bed to snuggle against said beloved as he was sleeping after a night of vigorous singing? 

Crowley  _ was  _ Ezra's beloved, he was… And he was Ezra's colleague, too. 

Ezra kissed Crowley's hair, his temple, his jaw, his ear.

"I'll be right as rain… Gonna ravish you… totally…"

"Oh you silly darling, my beautiful boy, do shut up and sleep."

"There are books… Get yourself a book, angel… you love books."

"I love  _ you _ , you impossible stick insect." And fuck the books, Ezra thought, he was lying next to Crowley, and Crowley was tired. He'd need a shower and a good breakfast when he woke up. He wouldn't allow himself any of it, Ezra knew, until he made Ezra a whining mess of endless pleasure… He was worth the wait, he'd never leave, he'd never mock cruelly, he was sure as rain… He was worth the wait. Alright, Ezra was sixty, but old age was but a semiperfect number, ten times a perfect number, deserving of a tired young nurse grabbing at Ezra in his sleep and mumbling confessions of love and pleas to stay. He was worth the wait. Ezra hugged him tighter and allowed himself to fall asleep again. 


	7. Chapter 7

"You alright, my love?"

"Why shouldn't I be? I'm being told to keep the love of my life safe and healthy! For once the world agrees with me!" Crowley giggled and kissed the top of Ezra's head. The rest of Ezra's head rested on Crowley's chest. 

"Oh don't tell me Bea didn't say something along the lines of  _ You eat an old man's arse, you're gross. _ " Ezra smiled into Crowley's skin. He was too giddily happy for someone who had been  _ ordered _ to step down and let the younger colleagues run the show. He felt confident enough to say that he had done enough and that he had earned the right to wait for his darling of a neonatal nurse at home, and that had been so before the lockdown. Afterwards Crowley had been told to go home and eat an old man's arse. Ana didn't use those exact words but she giggled enough. Bea must have used those very words…

Crowley was having none of it, and Ezra was on his back and very thoroughly held and kissed and promised all sorts of naughty arse-related things. Had the world not been ending, Ezra would have considered himself absolutely, incredibly lucky. He had his darling, and his darling had him. Ezra hadn't reminded anyone that he was sixty in more than a year. Two years, to be precise. 

Two years of Crowley taking care of him, two years of Ezra waking up with a gasp to the sight of his exhausted darling clinging to Ezra the moment he started to move. 

"We're here and now and alive and in love. Would you do something for me, angel?"

"You have the sweetest way of persuading me to take my clothes off, my love."

"I want you, angel. Let me… let me…" Crowley was kissing down Ezra's body. He pulled the soft pyjama bottoms down, lower still, until he was able to free Ezra's legs and feet. "I love you, you know. May… may I?"

"My sweet love, darling… Crowley!" Ezra tried to be careful as he put his hands on Crowley's shoulders. 

The younger man had his tongue licking and sucking on Ezra's hole, careful and hungry - the combination Ezra had never learned to muster. 

When Ezra was soaking wet, he felt Crowley's fingers breaching him. "Sweetheart… my sweetheart. My heart…" Ezra kept muttering tender praises and soft pet names, kept being foolish and feeling loved. 

Lube was thrown in the general direction of Crowley's hands and landed on his head.

"Oh.. ah… Darling, I'm so sorry."

"I might take it personally, you know?" Crowley wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and crawled up to gaze longingly at his lover. Said lover gazed back at him.

"Please, love, take it personally. I'm very personal with you." Ezra giggled. "Get in, love."

"Tempting as it is, you're not open enough for me, angel." Crowley kissed behind Ezra's ear. 

"You always avoid my mouth after rimming. I'm offended," Ezra pouted. 

"Didn't want to… to appear gross. I'm gross enough."

"Bea has been kink shaming you… Oh my dear boy, my love, do kiss me on the mouth."

Crowley made a show of rolling his eyes but obliged of course. 

When they got together Ezra used to think Crowley would be all quick and rough, but in the end Crowley proved to be the most careful lover, he'd know when to go slow and when to speed up and when to go too slow. Ezra loved him so much he would sometimes consider him a health hazard.

"I loved you for your beauty, but that doesn't make a fool of me, you were in there for your beauty too…" Crowley sang, his head under Ezra's chin, his arm around Ezra's waist. "And I loved you for your body, there's a voice that sounds like Gd to me, declaring that your body is really you…"

"Darling…" Ezra couldn't tease him anymore. Everything seemed so right and sweet, everything seemed so good. 

***

How many times did they call Ezra his father? Crowley had lost count, not that he had kept one. The time wasn't their fault, neither was the age. They fell into each other easily, Ezra sold his flat and moved in with Crowley  _ officially.  _

There was just one thing that they could do to make it more  _ official _ , and Crowley had been working on it. 

At first Ezra tended to be jealous and fearful. Then he followed Crowley's lead, followed Crowley's Orpheus as obediently as Euridice did. The kingdom of Hades wasn't death, after all, it was desolation of the old age, and Crowley was taking him out of it. 

He worked fewer hours now, in the lockdown. He'd shower thoroughly at work, he'd wash his hands furiously, he'd wear a mask, a funny one, just like his uniforms - flowers and whales and bees and Feynman's equations. 

He ordered about seven rings and discussed them with Bea who wasn't very helpful, but they tried. 

Crowley placed the ring he liked the most into his least favourite ficus pot. 

He came up with words and vows. He consulted Shakespeare and Wilde and Jules Verne. 

Tolstoy came in handy, for once. 

Crowley wanted it to be perfect. Wanted to cook the best dinner and get his hands on the best wine. 

However every moment with Ezra was the more romantic, the less Crowley tried to make it so. They went for a walk - and it was heaven. He came back from a shift - and Ezra smiled at him.

Every moment was just too bloody perfect, and the ring remained in its pot. 

***

Crowley came back in the morning. He was exhausted and he wanted to propose to his angel. 

"Darling?" Ezra called sleepily. 

Oh, fuck the ring, he wouldn't make Ezra wait a moment longer. 

Crowley quickly undressed himself and washed his hands with the fervour of a surgeon. 

"Morning, angel. Why aren't you asleep?" Crowley made his way into the bedroom and under the covers, snuggling close to his husband. Ezra was his husband in everything but the name, and Ezra cared deeply about the names. 

"I was. You opened the door too loudly. You fiend." 

Crowley hummed sleepily. 

And he was asleep the next moment but not really. 

"Darling? Darling, are you asleep? Darling, I love you so much. Talk to me."

"I'm here, angel. What's up?" Crowley replied softly. 

"I want you to marry me, darling. Will you marry me?"

Crowley was super awake the next moment. 

"What? How… how dare you? Angel…" Crowley whined and fell off the bed.

"Love? I… Really… Crowley?"

He wasn't listening. Ezra was rambling and Ezra was hurt but Crowley was digging through the damn pot.

He returned to bed with dirty hands and the blessed box. "You… you… thwarted me! I… I took my meds, so I'm not going to sing but…" He collapsed next to Ezra, the box in his hands. "I… I meant for it to be romantic and… Fuck. Shit. I ruined it! You ruined it! We ruined it…"

Ezra was laughing out loud. 

"Oh you incurable romantic boy… Yes. Sure. Don't waste your breath. Love you. Yes, yes, yes, yes."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for being here. I love kudos and comments. Please, be kind to me. Yes, I am in fact a lot of writing velvet worms.


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